


kuroo is kinda really hot and everyone knows it

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Humiliation, Light Petting, Mildly Dubious Consent, kuroo gets made fun of but mostly everyone's curious, kuroo's kinda scared but he's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 20:56:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15179222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “We’re so sorry, Kuroo-san,” Yaku says, smiling and stalking towards him. (Which, okay,stalking towardsis not a phrase that should be useful for describing cute little high-schoolers, but this isYaku.)“Lev, pass me that towel, I’ll help Kuroo-san dry off his hair.”





	kuroo is kinda really hot and everyone knows it

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this one fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1965066) that i couldn't get enough of.  
> i'm just really into kuroo getting bullied WHY

It happens on a regular day, as most things do:

 

Coach Nekomata finishes end-of-practice comments early, takes off ( _ ambles _ off, more) to take care of paperwork in his office, and first-year Haiba Lev decides he should take the opportunity to carry out a barely-calculated attempt to please his  _ senpai. _

 

Kuroo Tetsurou, prized Captain and self-proclaimed Catty Bastard, clueless and absolutely tuckered out on the cold gym floor. His hair drips. (It’s sweat.) He isn’t thinking of anything, really - not the dinner waiting for him at home, not Kenma (waiting for him outside), certainly not the naive, lanky first-year about to expose his entire life like Bokuto never has.

 

“Kuroo-senpai,” is the one and only warning he gets before a towel starts carding through his hair, making him tense for all of half a second. 

 

Half a second isn’t long enough for any logic past  _ oh that feels good _ to kick in, and that is how it begins.

 

Skipping directly past the possibly reasoning behind the towel-covered hands in his hair - maybe, like  _ someone’s drying my hair because I’m too tired to move  _ or  _ a kohai is helping me out of respect,  _ Kuroo’s brain fizzes, short-circuits, and reconnects itself to a one-way trip to  _ endorphin-releasing pleasure island. _

 

He mewls, quietly, and that is how it ends.

 

“Kuroo-senpai?”

 

_ Whiplash. _

 

“Mm?”

 

“Does that feel good?”  _ Oh, Lev. _

 

“Mm.”

 

“Want me to keep going?”

 

Colouring of the cheeks. Shaking of the head. “Mm-mm. Get your hands off of me.”

 

Kuroo forces himself to put some distance between the two of them, but it’s too fucking late: no less than five pairs of prying eyes on their Captain, all frozen in the middle of cleaning up, and  _ oh shit Kuroo thought he could make a clean getaway. _

 

“What?” he snaps. “Get back to cleaning up. Or I’ll put you all on five laps, don’t think you can get away with shit ‘cause Coach is gone.”

 

Yaku, because he has conquered all fear, laughs at him. “Kuroo. You look like you just came.”

 

“Came?” Inuoka pipes up, curious, and Kuroo thinks Yaku should probably die tonight.

 

“What the fuck, really?” Yamamoto says, closing in on him at an alarming speed.

 

“Watch your fucking language.”

 

“We’re so sorry, Kuroo-san,” Yaku says, smiling and stalking towards him. (Which, okay,  _ stalking towards  _ is not a phrase that should be useful for describing cute little high-schoolers, but this is  _ Yaku.) _ “Lev, pass me that towel, I’ll help Kuroo-san dry off his hair.”

 

“Okay!” Lev enthuses, oblivious.

 

“Leave me the fuck alone,” Kuroo barks, and tries to get up. His legs collapse. Yaku’s got this absolutely terrifying look on his face, like he’s about to eat him up, and worse, the rest of the first- and second-years begin to crowd around him, too, out of curiosity.

 

“Fuck off. All of you. As soon as Yaku-san starts being mean to me the rest of you stop listening?”

 

“Kuroo-san, is your scalp that sensitive?” Yamamoto asks, looking genuinely interested in an answer.

 

“No. It’s not. Leave me alone, I’m tired.”

 

“Kuroo, let us take care of you, okay?” Yaku says, looking like the devil himself, and Kuroo physically can’t move away any further when he backs himself into a wall and the towel comes toward his head. He curses up a storm, but Yaku’s got the others invested, now, and nothing he says will matter.

 

“Kenma,” he calls, legitimately a little terrified, but he’s too far to hear. “Okay, fuck you guys, first of all. Second, this is straight up disrespectful. Third, Yaku, you’re dead tomorrow.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Yaku says, tugging at the ends of his hair, and Kuroo feels like he’s on fucking display, like entertainment. (The fire in his veins can’t tell him whether it’s fear or anger or arousal.)

 

“Yaku,” he complains, which is a big fucking mistake, because it comes out a little less snappy and a little more sexy than he intended. Yaku laughs, moves aside so that the others can close in further and pet him and pull on his hair like they’ve just seen their senior do.

 

It isn’t hard for Yamamoto to move behind Kuroo and hold him down by the wrists, unluckily, since the taller man is sweating and panicking and his muscles won’t goddamn cooperate.

 

Kuroo closes his eyes in shame, figures that  _ it feels good anyway  _ and  _ it’s just in his best interest to endure it  _ and  _ he literally can’t stop what’s happening.  _ He’ll never look at any of his teammates in the eyes again.

 

“Kuroo-senpai, you’re really like a cat!” Inuoka says, happily.

 

Noises of agreement all around, and Kuroo barely holds in a moan. He feels disgusting, these are the people he’ll play volleyball with every day for the rest of the year,  _ damn it. _

 

“He sure likes being pet,” Yamamoto says, sounding like he’s about to die from wheezing.

 

“Shut up. Mmn.”

 

_ “Mmn,”  _ Yaku mocks, and gives a particularly hard yank, and that is when Kuroo perceives the beginning of a fucking boner, which is not something you want to have when all you’re wearing is a pair of athletic shorts.

 

“Yaku! If you don’t stop right fucking now, I’m gonna -  _ mmnh - _ ”

 

“You’re gonna  _ what, _ Kuroo? Blow a load?”

 

“All of you get your filthy paws off of me,” Kuroo snaps, trying to twist out of Yamamoto’s grip, “or tomorrow I’ll have to inform Coach that you were harassing your Captain.”

 

“Aww, but we’re just having some fun!” Yamamoto says, smiling like a fucking shark. “And you look like you’re enjoying it, you big pervert.”

 

“Shut the fuck up.  _ I’m  _ not the one who has his hands around his Captain’s fucking wrists. Let the fuck go!”

 

“Aw, Kuroo, you’re so cute!” Yaku says, poisonously, “Tetsu-chan, you want it harder?”

 

The last shining shred of dignity is what snaps Kuroo to his senses. “Call me that again if you want to die,” he sneers, and with a brute force rips out of Yamamoto’s grip to go straight for Yaku’s neck.

 

The rest of the team jerks their hands away at the sudden movement. Good. Thank fuck that Kuroo is starting to scare them again.

 

“Kuroo-senpai?” Lev says, nervously, “we’re really sorry, you can let go of Yaku-san.”

 

Yaku laughs in his grip, a breathy sound, and his hands come up to pry off Kuroo’s arm. “You’re into this, too, Kuroo?” he bites. Kuroo squeezes harder, snarls, and then lets him go with a push.

 

“Alright, alright,” Yamamoto calls, sobered up. “I think that’s enough for today. Everyone out.”

 

The gym empties in record time, which leaves Kuroo (who’s dragged himself to the nearest corner to calm the fuck down) and Yaku (who, apart from his sides rising and falling shallowly, hasn’t moved from the spot that Kuroo left him).

 

“Jesus fucking christ,” Kuroo breathes, and carefully runs shaky hands through his hair. “Yaku, if you’re awake, I’m gonna fucking kill you. You little fucking shit.”

 

A dry laugh. “Kuroo. You’re really hot. I couldn’t help myself. And that Lev has wanted to impale himself on your dick since he first saw you.”

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Kuroo spits. “Lev’s a kid. He doesn’t want shit.”

 

“We’d all make an exception for you, Kuroo,” Yaku snickers, flipping onto his back. “It’s no wonder all the girls are over you. You let them pet you, huh?”

 

“Fuck no. You’re all fucking disgusting. And you know I’m gay. So double fuck you.”

 

“I’m sorry, won’t happen again,” Yaku says, but there’s a smile in his voice.

 

“Better fucking not. Jesus.”

 

“You want a hug?”

 

“Not from you, pervert." Then, "Oh, shit! Kenma’s still waiting!”

 

“You gonna go out with that boner?”

 

“Oh, fuck you. Kenma’ll be disgusted but won’t mind.”

 

“Really.”

 

“Go the fuck home, Yaku. And don’t fucking touch me ever again.”

 

“Yes, Captain.”

 

“Good  _ boy,”  _ Kuroo bites out, and Yaku clams up. (Oh, he knew it. He fucking  _ knew  _ it.)

 


End file.
